A Wife and a Burial Site
by forgetablelove
Summary: After the defeat of Voldemort, Hermione goes to the Malfoy Manor, with the excuse of an unpaid wizard's debt and knowledge no one else knows, she is there in search of a husband.


_Yes, in spite of all,  
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall  
From our dark spirits.  
_(John Keats – Endymion)

Her friends say mourning had driven her insane and that led her here. But she knew true love had led her here. He had come through in the end, saving her life, and now it was time to repay him. She didn't know if he would accept her repayment, but she was willing to try.

The Malfoy Manor was tall and imposing as she stood out from the door with her hand raised to knock the door. Knock, knock. There were some vague movements from inside the manor as she stood waiting for the door to open. Slowly the door opened to reveal a woman in a maid's outfit. They have a maid? she thought, how old-fashioned.

"Hello," the woman greeted her.

"Hello. I am looking for Draco Malfoy," she said without hesitance.

"Master Malfoy is here. Step in the pallor and I will go get him." She moved back to let the guest in and then turned to leave to find him.

The guest stepped inside. While she stood there alone, she took the time to look around her hopefully new home. The Malfoy Manor. It's very name sent a chill down her spine. The house was huge. The pallor lend into three rooms (a living room, dinning room, and study from what she could make out), and had a large open staircase on one side. The house was dark, filled with shadows and secrets. She knew she would never feel completely safe here, but if he accepted her love, she would try.

She heard movements coming from above the stairs, and slowly Draco emerged and descended down the stairs. He was just as beautiful as she remembered. She made eye contact with him as he made his way to her. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and stared at her. Neither said a word for several moments.

The guest couldn't take the silence for long and said, "Hello, Draco. It's been awhile, has it not?"

Draco stared at her, but didn't respond.

"Please, Draco, say something…" the guest said, pleadingly.

"Hermione Granger--no, excuse me, Hermione Weasley... what means you here?" Draco finally said with a cold, uninterested voice.

Hermione pushed her shoulders back and stood taller. "Draco, I am here to see you. I owe you..." When he didn't show any respond to her, she let her voice trail off.

"A wizards debt," he said as if he was bored. "Are you here because of a wizard's debt? Where is your husband? Your friends?"

Hermione looked him in the eye and said, "Ron... died. I am a widow. And yes, Draco, I am here because of a wizard's debt. You saved my life."

"Well," Draco said slowly, "You saved mine, did you not? They would have surely killed me if you haven't spoken on my behalf when I brought you back to the Order's headquarters. Most was ready to kill at the sight of me."

Hermione looked down, remembering that day. "Yes," she said, bringing her head up again, "I suppose I did save you, except Dumbledore and Snape also spoke on your behalf... So that means it doesn't count as payment does it?"

Hermione looked in his silver eyes as she waited for a respond. She knew what she wanted, but she also knew Draco had pride. Sometimes too much pride.

After a moment of pondering, he decided, his silver eyes shining with determination. "Yes, it counts. There. You are free; you're debt has already been repaid."

As he turned to leave her, she found herself crying out in desperation, "But Draco, I know! I know about your father!"

He stood with his back to her for a moment before turning around. "You know... What do you know? What do you know about my father?" His silver eyes had clouded over into a grey color laced with anger.

Hermione shoved some of her brown hair from her face and sighed. "I know about your father.. what he did to you. I know you should be in St. Mungo's right now. But you're not, because of your stupid pride."

He wa clearly ataken back from her words, and he stood silent yet again. "But," he siad finally, "What do you know?"

"I know people have been driven mad by the curse your father put on you. You, his only son! Because you saved me... just because you saved me." She felt tears swelling in her eyes and she tried to blink them back, but one escaped, slowly falling down her cheek.

He shrugged. His expression of indifference was betrayed by the emotion in his voice as he said, "That was just what Lucius Malfoy did. Anything to get what he wanted. It didn't matter I was his son, I angered him." He shrugged again. "What do you want? Leave. You're free; you owe me nothing."

Hermione took a tenitive step forward as she said, "Maybe I owe you nothing, but I think I owe it to myself to try to be help you... because if I am not mistaken, you are dying."

"Everyone is dying," Draco said in a quiet voice, but it was clear he was shocked her words.

"Well, you're dying faster than anyone... you won't get help, so you either let me stay with you, or die alone with your maid. It's your choice. And remember, I'm already right here."

Hermione waited patiently as he thought about her offer.

"My wife or mistress?" he finally asked.

Hermione's heart lept and she smiled. "Wife. I'm no man's mistress."

Draco stood there for a moment and then nodded. "I will make the arrangements. We will marry as soon as possible."

Three days later Herione stood in a bedroom at the Malfoy Manor, staring at herself in the mirrior. She was dressed in a beautiful white gown which wasn't much different from the one she wore when she married Ron. She still couldn't belive she was about to become Draco's wife, but no matter how anyone tried to dissuade her otherwise, she knew this is what she wanted. She was determined to at least make his time on earth, which had to be growing shorter by the day, the best she could. She was also researching magical remedies and cases involved with the Cruciatus curse. She knew Draco had too much pride to get himself help for what his father did to him, but she'd be sure she did everything she could to help him.. if she could help him.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," she called, turning to face the door.

The manor's maid, Ariel, wanted in. "Hello," she said in the demured voice of hers. "Master Malfoy says they are ready for you."

Hermione smilled, in spite of the nerves in her stomach. "Thank you." Ariel turned and fled without another word to Hermione. She sighed.

She looked in the mirrior one last time, ran her hands down the front of her gown to smooth it. Then she strightened her shoulders, and walked to her wedding.

For the first two weeks of being married to Draco, she didn't see him often. Her things were put into a seperate room on the second floor than his and he stayed locked in his study most of the day, only coming out to eat. Hermione busied herself so she didn't feel the loneliness by cleaning the house and adding light. She took down the dark drapes and added white cutians to let the light of the day in. She cleaned out all the magical creatures that lurked in the house, that no one ever bothered to rid of before. She enlisted Ariel as her help. Soon Ariel was telling her about her childhood in London. She was a Squib and this was the only job she could find and still stay in touch with the wizard world. As much as Hermione tried, she could not get Ariel to talk about the Malfoy family's past. She knew that since Ariel was so young she didn't know alot, but she had a feeling the girl knew more than what she was letting on.

One day, Draco walked out of his study and saw the women moving funiture. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed.

Hermione jumped and swung around. She grinned at her husband. "I'm making this place more lively. Did you notice how dark it is in here? And this couch--" she gestured to the piece of funiture she was moving--"is just dreadful. We need new funiture. I was going to go pick some up today... Do you want to come?"

"To pick out funiture?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Certianly."

"I... I am busy," he said curtly and then hurried back in his study.

Hermione shrugged. She looked at Ariel as she said, "At least he didn't tell us to stop."

The night that Draco had found her moving funiture, Hermione heard noises in her room as she tried to sleep. Opening her eyes, she muttered, "What?" groggily.

"It's time for you to become my wife in all ways," a soft, husky voice whispered.

Suddenly Hermione was wide awake. "Draco?"

"Yes."

That night they conssumated their marriage, and every night for a month after that. Draco never told her to stop rearranging the manor, but he never helped or gave her words of encouragement either. In truth, the only thing that had changed was that they were now in the same bedroom. She went to bed one night about two weeks after the first night, and her things had been moved into Draco's room. She didn't protest.

Anytime she had free from sorting the manor out, she researched. She found nothing. Finally she gave in and decided to talk to Draco about his father.

"Draco," she whispered one night as he held her in bed.

"Mmm?" he muttered, sleepily.

"Why don't you just go to St. Mungo's?"

She felt him stiffen, but since he did not push her away, she snuggled closer.

"I have my pride Hermione. That's all I have. The Malfoy name is ruined; my mother is in Askaban; my father is dead. I have nothing, but pride."

"You have me," she whispered. She felt him shift, and then his lips claimed hers.

The next morning, over breakfast, Hermione looked at Draco. "Draco, did you have to kill your father?"

Draco dropped the fork of eggs he was bringing to his mouth, and gaped at her. "What time of question is that?"

"Draco, I mean no offense, and it won't change my opinion of you if you did. But I have to know, did you kill your father?"

"It was either me or him.." Draco said quietly, not quite looking at her.

She stood up and walked over to him. She didn't try to stop herself as she leaned down and wrapped her arms around her husband. "Then I'm glad it was him; I'm glad it wasn't you," she whispered in his ear.

He turned his head to look at he. "Really? Even if I'm a murder?"

"Draco, after the dark times, most of the wizards and witches in the world are murders. It was the only way to survive." She gently cupped his face as she said, "It doesn't make a difference to me if you killed your father."

"I bury him," he said softly. His voice was quiet and he looked at Hermione in the eyes. "Mother wanted nothing to do with it, even after she was caught I told her he had died and I had buried her. I got permission to take her to the burial site, but she refused to go. She said he was a disgrace if he was killed by his own son. And then she disowned me."

Hermione saw the pain in his eyes as he told her and her heart broke. "Draco, you don't need her. You are better than her, than your parents. I know you don't see it that way, but you are better."

Draco looked at her. Then he leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. The kiss was suppose to me soft and tender, but soon it turned hard and savage.

"Draco," she whispered after they broke apart. "I want to go to the burial site. Will you take me?"

He nodded.

Two hours later, the couple stood before a nodescript tombstone that read "Lucius Malfoy" with the dates of his birth and death under. Nothing else. Hermione knelt down and laid down flowers in front of the tombstone. Then she grabbed Draco's hand and held it tightly. She heard a soft noise come from beside her and tunred to look. Draco stood there, crying with making a sound. She just gently put her arms around him and held him the best he could, whishing she could take away his pain.

For two weeks after that, the couple went to the burial site of Draco's father daily and she always left flowers, and Draco always cried siliently. As the days grew on, Draco cried less, and finally after two weeks, just shed a few tears at the site of his father's burial site. Hermione just stood there beside him or held him, whichever he wanted that day. She never tried to get him to talk, but she let him know she was there. Never did they mention where they went to Ariel, but Hermione thought the girl might know anyway, because she always had flowers on the dining room table for Hermione to take with her.

One night after they had spent time at the burial site, Draco turned to Hermione and smiled. "Thank you," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Thank you." He held her tightly for several moments. She knew what he was thanking her for.

She was even more determined to find a cure for him. He had slowly began to sleep more and have less energy. She had decided that was a sympthom of whatever he had. She wasn't even sure he had a disease, but she knew she had to help him. Finally, she gave in and asked him to go to St. Mungo's. "Will you please go, Draco? I don't want to loose you.." she pleaded across the table during dinner.

Draco looked at her. Her face was filled with concern and he had never really heard her plead in such a way before. He relented. "Fine," he said curtly. "I'll go, but it's been so long they probably can't do anything. Like you said that first day, most are driven mad by that curse." He turned back to his food.

Hermione lept up from the table and ran to him, throwing her arms around him, "Thank you!"

When Ariel had come in to the room to clear the dishes she saw that Draco had pulled Hermione on his lap and they were in the throws of a passionate kiss. She decided she would clear the dishes later on and as silently as she entered, left the room.

Four weeks later, Draco stood in the dining room a bag in his hand. Hermione stared at him, smiling with tears in her eyes. "All cured?" she whispered nervously. It had been three weeks sine he was admited into St. Mungo's and he had refused to allow her to see him. She had waited for his owls daily to tell her when he was coming home. She got the owl saying he was coming home the day before she had thought to go pick him up, but he had insisted on coming home alone. He did not tell her how he was doing or weather they found a cure. The mediwizard's claimed it was miracle he wasn't driven mad. And Hermione secretly agreed, he was a miracle. When he nodded and set down the bag, she ran to him and threw herself in his arms.

"I love you," he said against her hair as he held her close. "Thank you."

"Oh, Draco," she said, with tears of joy running down her face, "I love you too." They clung to each other for several moments before, they finally kissed. The first kiss led to another, and then another. He carried her to their bedroom and they weren't seen until the next morning.


End file.
